


Come to My Window

by gettingaphdinlarry



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 5 Times, Alternate Universe - America, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Elementary School, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Middle School, Best Friends, Coming Out, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Kissing, Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-11 15:38:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16478282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gettingaphdinlarry/pseuds/gettingaphdinlarry
Summary: It had become their joke, ever since Zayn had come out. One of them would do something stupid—burp or trip or slosh their pint of beer—and the other would say, “You could’ve texted me” or “that wasn’t worth texting me?”When Zayn got a full scholarship to college, he sent Liam a message.Need to talk to you. Call me.When Liam said to text it, Zayn said no.That’s how it was, and they both knew it.You can text mewas for easy things, nothing serious. If it was serious, it got a phone call.But an hour ago, Liam had texted back.::Zayn and Liam were best friends for years—and then things changed.





	Come to My Window

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to [myownsparknow](https://myownsparknow.tumblr.com/) and [louandhazaf](http://louandhazaf.tumblr.com/) for betaing this for me. I appreciate you both so much!

“Li!” Zayn shrieked, glancing at Mrs. Korby, his teacher. She wasn’t looking—

_Whack!_

“You’re it!”

Zayn tumbled to the ground, shaking his hair out of his eyes. The bright red of Liam’s jacket flashed past him. Zayn rubbed his hands together, making wood chip bits fall over his knees. He checked his palms. Some dirt was ground into his skin, but he didn’t see blood. He watched Liam turn near the monkey bars. Then he slipped out of Zayn’s sight.

“Liam!” Mrs. Korby shouted.

“They’re fine,” the other second grade teacher said, her voice bored.

“You know those two don’t get along,” Mrs. Korby said, standing up and shielding her eyes from the sun with her hand.

Zayn saw another streak of red, and saw Liam’s reflection in the long bank of windows that made the music room so bright and sunny. He pretended to pick gravel out of his hands, but he followed Liam’s movements in the window, waiting…

Liam’s reflection turned around and Zayn leapt to his feet, dirt and wood whirling under his feet. He raced toward the puffy red jacket. Liam slowed down as he looked around the playground.

He was so dumb. Didn’t he know you don’t ever stop in tag? God, he annoyed Zayn so much. He thought he was so smart, especially in science, just because the other kids wanted to work with him—

“Zayn! You know what Principal Nelson says!” Zayn’s legs pumped and his lungs burned as he lunged past Mrs. Korby, ignoring her. “There’s no tag—”

“Yah!” When Liam turned, Zayn jumped in the air, his arms and legs spread. He crashed against Liam’s chest and knocked him to the ground. He sat on top on Liam and punched his shoulder. “You’re it!”

“Liam! Zayn!”

Zayn got up and shook his bottom in Liam’s face. “Betcha can’t catch me!” he called behind him before tearing across the playground.

* * * * *

Zayn sat down next to Brittany while Liam plopped into the chair on the other side. Zayn spread out three books and Liam pointed at them in turn. “Do you want to read this _Berenstain Bears_ one, this one about a snow day—”

“Snow!” Brittany grabbed the book and opened it.

“Or this one about a talking dog…” Liam’s voice trailed off and he shrugged. Zayn caught his eye and grinned. Brittany was one of the most enthusiastic second graders in Mrs. Korby’s class this year, but she was stubborn and there was no changing her mind.

Their fifth grade teacher, Mr. Davidson, had pulled Liam and Zayn aside after the first week of Reading Buddies and asked if they wanted to be partnered with someone else. He had said, “Brittany’s a little…special. She needs some extra patience, which is why we put her with you two. We thought maybe having two people would be better.”

When Brittany read, she rocked from side to side, and she got frustrated when she couldn’t sound out a word and she even cried a few times. Sometimes Zayn wanted to laugh because he wasn’t sure what else to do, but he tried to hide it because he knew Liam felt terrible when Brittany got upset, like it was his fault or something.

Brittany leaned over the book and started shifting her weight, brushing against Zayn and Liam’s shoulders. “One winter morning, Peter looked out the win… win… dow?” Brittany squinted and yelped, “Window!”

“Good,” Liam murmured. “He looked out the window. What do you think he saw?”

“Snow!”

Zayn laughed and nodded. “Good, keep going.”

Brittany looked at the book again, her finger pushing along the page. Her braids brushed against Zayn’s shoulder and her voice grew more excited.

Zayn felt Liam’s foot on top of his shoe, pressing on his toes. Zayn looked over Brittany’s head at Liam, but Liam didn’t look up. Zayn wiggled his toes under Liam’s foot.

“He walked… with his toes… pointing in…” Brittany read.

Zayn reached behind Brittany and poked Liam’s shoulder. This time, Liam looked at Zayn. _Window_ , Zayn mouthed. Liam’s smiled, wiggled his eyebrows, and nodded.

Brittany had cried over that word last week.

Zayn looked up at Mrs. Korby and Mr. Davidson to see if they were watching. They stood in the middle of the noisy room, chatting. He wondered what they talked about. He wondered if Brittany cried in math class, too, or just reading. He wondered if she had any friends in class, or if she felt lonely, like he was when he was in second grade, when his family had just moved and he didn’t have any friends.

Sometimes, he saw Mrs. Korby give him and Liam a funny look, and he wondered if she knew that they had became friends in third grade, when their teacher made them work together on a project for science fair.

“‘Angel,’” Liam said, pointing to the picture. “Have you ever made snow angels?”

Brittany shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

Zayn lifted his arms above his head and started moving them up and down. “You lay down in the snow on your back and move you arms back and forth, like this.”

“Right,” Liam pointed at the book, “it makes a shape like this, like angel wings…”

“And you can move your legs too, it makes… a dress maybe?” Zayn kicked his legs out under the table, and Liam started kicking his legs too. Brittany giggled and thrashed her legs. “That’s how you make a snow angel.”

“Like this!” Brittany said, laughing loudly. She kicked Zayn, and Liam mumbled _ouch_ under his breath.

Mrs. Korby whipped around. She glared at Liam first, then Zayn. Brittany flinched and whispered, “Uh-oh.”

Zayn flashed Mrs. Korby a smile and said, too loudly, “He pretended he was a mountain climber.”

Mrs. Korby rolled her eyes and shook her head in a friendly way before turning around.

Liam chuckled quietly and patted Brittany’s back. Then he took her hand and put her fingers on the words Zayn read. “Mountain,” he said.

“Mountain,” Brittany repeated. “Mountain… cli… cli…”

“Climber,” Liam said. “Mountain climber.”

Zayn smiled. Liam would make a good teacher. Zayn wriggled his foot around until he found Liam’s heel. He tucked his foot under Liam’s so their ankles were hooked together. Then he sat back and listened to Brittany and Liam read.

* * * * *

Zayn wiped his forehead with his free hand. He looked around the stage, trying to spot the box fan that one of the seventh graders had borrowed—or stolen maybe, Zayn wasn’t sure—from one of the science closets.

“Too hot,” he said, putting his paintbrush down onto the plastic drop cloth next to him.

“They turn off the AC on the weekends,” Liam said. He was bent over the plywood wall, his back curved and his t-shirt hanging loosely from his body. He pressed a large sponge against the wood.

“How do you know that?”

“Homeroom teacher said so.” Liam pressed the sponge into the tray of paint.

“They’d better turn it on for the play.” Zayn sighed and stood up. “You know where the fan is?”

“I’m sure it’ll be on for the play. Never noticed it was hot before.” Liam sat back on his heels and looked at his work. “Think the fan’s in the dressing room, Maria said she was hiding it from Ben.”

“Hope it’s not the girls’ room,” Zayn mumbled, walking toward the dressing rooms. He called out, “And I don’t think Ben’s ever coming back!”

“Don’t tell Maria,” Liam said.

Zayn laughed, his voice echoing around him. The middle school theater was quiet, for the first time since he and Liam had joined the stage crew. They were only days away from opening night and almost everything was ready—until Ben had played a prank that left half of the walls of the town wet and warped.

Jessie, their director, was a local college student who wasn’t used to “babysitting kids,” as she put it. She was livid when she saw the pieces, and Ben’s poor attempts to stifle his giggling proved he was the culprit. When he refused to apologize to her, she kicked him off the tech crew.

The next day, Ben didn’t stay after school, but neither did any of his friends. That left only Zayn, Liam, and Mina to try and fix the set. But no matter what they tried, the pieces wouldn’t stay balanced, and any time someone walked across stage, pieces of Verona and Mantua shook. Jessie had grumbled and there were no earthquakes in _Romeo and Juliet_.

Maria mentioned the nurse said there had been an earthquake eleven years before the story started, so maybe they could add a scene to the play. Jessie’s face turned so beet red, Zayn was afraid she was going to cry. He said they had enough plywood and cardboard left over to make new pieces.

The three of them had worked late every night, but since Mina had dance on Saturdays, Jessie had promised Zayn and Liam a pizza lunch in exchange for their help on the weekend.

Now Jessie was off getting their lunch, and Zayn and Liam had the whole school to themselves, it seemed. This was the fourth play he and Liam had worked tech crew for, but the first time they’d ever been left alone. Zayn idly wondered if there were alarms in the halls. What if the police came and Jessie wasn’t there? Would kids break into a school to paint a set? Their painting wasn’t so bad it looked like graffi, right? Was there graffiti in Verona? “Willie’s writing is boring.” “Rosaline 4ever.” Zayn thought about what the girls said in gym class. “Li is cute.”

Zayn found the fan in the corner of the boy’s dressing room, with a tangled extension cord piled next to it. He grabbed the fan and dragged the cord across the room to the stage. He plugged it into the outlet and looked at it closely. It had five settings, but Zayn didn’t want the paint to dry too quickly. He tried the lowest setting. “How’s that?”

Liam shook his head. “Higher.”

Zayn turned it up a notch, and Liam’s hair lifted slightly with the breeze. “Now?”

“Still can’t feel it.”

Zayn turned it up again, to the middle setting. “Now?”

Liam grinned and called out, “No, not enough.”

Zayn skipped to the highest setting, and the fan started rattling and shaking. “How’s that?” he yelled over the noise.

Liam sat up and spread his arms out to the side. His shirt clung to his body and his hair whipped around his ears. He made a thumb’s up and nodded. “Yeah! That’s good!”

Zayn giggled and returned to Liam’s side. “What’re you working on?”

“This window. I can’t get the shading right.” Liam scrambled to his feet. “It’s like… It’s too dark on that side.”

Zayn squeezed some black paint onto the heavy-duty plastic they were using as a paint palette. He added a swirl of white paint and mixed it together, then dabbed it over the edge of the window, trying to evenly spread it.

While he worked, Liam walked in circles around the pieces they’d painted, kicking his toes across the stage, making his shoes squeak. “Zayneo, oh Zayneo…”

“Huh?”

“This piece is almost dry—everything dries lighter, remember. Don’t paint it too light.”

“Mm. Kay.” Zayn mixed in a little dark blue and painted the shadow again.

“Zayneo, oh Zayneo,” Liam said from somewhere behind Zayn.

Zayn’s stomach felt funny. He tried to make his voice sound bored. “It’s Romeo.”

Liam ran around the edge of the window piece and stood on the other side. He swept his arms out in front of himself. “O Zayneo, Zayneo!” Liam dropped to his knees and grinned.

Zayn looked at Liam, stifling a laugh. “Did you forget the next line?”

“Wherefore art thou Zayneo?” Liam’s voice dropped a bit and he looked up at the ceiling.

“Deny thy father…” Zayn sat back to look at the painting.

“Deny thy father and refuse thy name/Or if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love…”

“I can’t remember the next line,” Zayn said. He stood up. “I think we need to let this dry before we know how it looks.”

“Let’s move it closer to the fan,” Liam said, grabbing the edge of the plywood wall.

Liam and Zayn pulled the piece across the stage, bringing it closer to the fan. The whole time, Liam mumbled to himself, half whispering and half swearing as he tried to say Juliet’s lines.

“OK, on three,” Zayn said. “One, two… three!”

They dropped the wall to Juliet’s house and Zayn nudged the fan closer to it with his foot. He wiped his face. It was so hot in here.

“Boys!”

Liam flinched and looked at Jessie, who was carrying the food down the aisle of the theater.

“Sorry it took so long, I got into a car accident with some dumb idiot—”

“Are you OK?” Zayn ran down the stairs and took one of the pizzas from Jessie.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, just—” Jessie slid the food onto the end of the stage. “I need to call my insurance company, save me a couple slices and something to drink, OK?”

“You sure you’re OK?” Liam said.

“I’m fine, just—I’m a little shook up. Just… Everything OK while I was gone?” Jessie peered at the set pieces.

“Yeah, we’re working on the window.” Liam pointed. “Everything else is pretty much done, just giving it some time to dry.”

“I knew I could trust you. I’ll be in the dressing room if you need me, OK?”

Zayn and Liam nodded, and Jessie went off to the dressing room, shaking her head and muttering about the stupid idiot who hit her.

Liam looked at Zayn and then the pizza. “Well, want to eat?”

“I’m starving.” Zayn sat down and opened up one of the boxes while Liam opened the other. “This is cheese, what do you have?”

“Veggie!” Liam grinned. “She remembered—”

“No pork.”

“Did you think she’d forget?”

Zayn picked up a piece of a veggie pizza, shrugged and nodded, “Yeah, they always do.”

“Me too. Maybe she has vegetarian friends.” Liam shrugged. “I bet a lot of her theater friends are.” Liam’s eyes grew wide. “Theater kids are weird.”

Zayn giggled and said, “Like us?”

“Oh.” Liam wiped his mouth on the back of his arm. “I remember now.”

“Hmm?”

“What’s in a name? That which we call a rose/By any other name would smell as sweet.”

Zayn raised an eyebrow and looked at Liam. He spoke with pizza in his cheeks. “You know the whole thing?”

“So Zayneo”—Liam laughed—“would, were he not Zayneo call’d/retain that dear perfection which he owes/without that title. Zayneo, doff thy name…”

Zayn swallowed and looked at Liam, waiting.

When Liam spoke again, his voice was rushed. He closed his eyes and his head moved back and forth, as if he were reading a script behind his eyes. “Doff they name/and for that name, which is no part of thee—”

Liam stopped and furrowed his brow. Zayn held his breath, hoping and praying, _C’mon, you know this, come on—_

His eyes still closed, Liam took a deep breath and tapped his fingers against his thighs, once for each syllable.

“Take”—as Liam spoke, Zayn formed the words with his mouth—“all myself.”

* * * * *

Zayn knew Liam was waiting for him to talk, to say anything.

Liam slowed to a stop, looked in both directions, then put his foot on the gas again. “Want to get something to eat?”

“No, not hungry.”

“Anything special you want to do?” Liam’s voice curled at the end.

Zayn knew that voice. Liam had sounded like that in sixth grade, when his grandpa had had a heart attack. He’d made that same sound in seventh grade, when Zayn’s skateboard had flown out from under him, and Zayn’s ankle had made a terrible crunching noise.

Zayn cleared his throat and opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He coughed several times.

Zayn had texted Liam before school, asking if Liam could pick him up after speech so they could hang out. He’d spent the whole day rehearing what he was going to say in his head, in the margins of his English notebook, in the mirror in the bathroom when he was supposed to be in band.

“Don’t die in my mom’s car,” Liam deadpanned.

“Just,” Zayn coughed again and held his hands in front of himself, imitating holding a steering wheel, “drive.” Zayn caught his breath and nodded. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“OK.” Liam glanced at Zayn and then at the road. “I’m going to drive down to the river, that sound good?”

“Yeah.” Zayn pointed to the sky. “Looks like it’s going to rain.”

“It does.” Liam drove in silence for several minutes, before finally saying, “The suspense is killing me, Zayneo, what’s going on?”

Zayn gave a half smile at the nickname Liam only used occasionally, and only in private.

“Is your family moving or something?”

“What?” Zayn shook his head. “No, nothing like that. It’s… it’s nothing bad, it’s just…”

Liam took a deep breath and turned the car smoothly, so they were traveling north along the river. “It’s just…?”

“I think…” Fat drops of rain started to splash against the windshield. Zayn glanced out the window. “No, I’m pretty sure I know…” He glanced at Liam then looked away. “I’m gay.”

“You’re gay.”

“Yeah.” Zayn’s voice was shaky. He started breathing deeply.

“You OK?” Liam put his hand on Zayn’s shoulder and squeezed it. “I’m gonna park so we can talk.”

“Yeah.” Zayn nodded and blinked hard. He didn’t want to cry. Hell, he had practiced this so he wouldn’t cry.

Liam pulled into the nearest parking lot and cut the ignition. He squeezed Zayn’s shoulder again. “Thank you for telling me.”

Zayn smiled weakly and looked at Liam out of the corner of his eye. “That’s the first time I told anyone that in person.”

“In person?”

“Yeah, in person.”

“Wait, who else knows?” Liam furrowed his brow.

Zayn started laughing. “Just… online friends.”

“Oh.” Liam settled a little deeper in his seat and looked out the window. “How… How…”

“How do I know?”

“No, um… I was gonna ask how long you knew, but maybe that’s a dumb question.” Liam held two hands up in front of himself. “Is that a dumb question? Can I ask questions? Is that rud—”

“You always ask dumb questions.” Zayn grinned and punched Liam in the shoulder, making Liam laugh. “Um, I’ve known… Well I’ve suspected a long time, like, years. But I’ve wanted to tell you for six months.”

“Six months!”

“Yeah…”

“You… Shit, you’ve had this secret for six months… Have I ever…” Liam turned to his window, which was covered in condensation. He traced a big ‘6’ in the water on the window. “Did I ever say something that made you scared to tell me?”

“No, it’s just… I wanted to tell you and I thought about sending you a text message, but then… I told everyone else online and it got kind of easy, typing it, ‘I’m Zee, I’m 17, I’m gay.’”

“You could’ve texted me. That would’ve been OK.”

“Mmm.” Zayn leaned forward and drew a tic-tac-toe board on the windshield. Water droplets at the ends of the lines slipped down the window. He put an ‘X’ in the lower right corner.

Liam leaned forward, held his finger over the center, and then put an ‘O’ in the upper right.

Zayn rolled his eyes. “Letting me win?” He took the upper left. “You’re my best friend. I wanted to tell you in person.”

Liam put an ‘O’ in the center. “I’m glad you told me.”

“I got tired of hiding it.” Zayn put an ‘X’ in the lower left, blocking Liam and giving him two ways to win. “But, uh, it’s still a secret…from everyone else.”

“I get that.” Liam thought for a moment, then took the lower center spot. “You’re still the same Zayneo to me. A rose by any other name and all that.”

Zayn traced an X in the middle left, making a row. “Just a gay rose.”

Liam laughed and drew a line through the Xs. “You win.”

* * * * *

Zayn paced next to his bed. He looked at his phone again, scrolling through the messages Liam had sent just hours earlier. **I need to tell you something. You’re home for winter break today, right? I came home early.**

Zayn had typed back, **You can text me.** It had become their joke, ever since Zayn had come out. One of them would do something stupid—burp or trip or slosh their pint of beer—and the other would say, “You could’ve texted me” or “that wasn’t worth texting me?”

When Zayn got a full scholarship to college, he sent Liam a message. **Need to talk to you. Call me.** When Liam said to text it, Zayn said no.

That’s how it was, and they both knew it. _You can text me_ was for easy things, nothing serious. If it was serious, it got a phone call.

But an hour ago, Liam had texted back.

**I love you, Z. Like love love you.**

Zayn read the message again. He must have read that message fifty-three times already, but his heart still raced.

When he’d read the message the first time, blood had pounded in his ears, and the room had gone wavy in front of him. He had wanted to respond, but had no idea what to say or what to do.

He scrolled to the next message, sent ten minutes after the first one.

**Zayneo, can I come over?**

**Tonight or tomorrow?**

_That_ one Zayn had answered easily. **Yes, now?** What he’d thought was yes, yes, come over because we need to talk, and _what_?

**Should be there in an hour or so. Thx.**

Zayn looked at the time stamp and the time. That was fifty-eight minutes ago.

Should he brush his teeth again? Zayn ran his tongue over his top teeth. No, three times in one hour was probably overkill. He ran his fingers through his hair, then stood in front of his closet mirror and surveyed his outfit again. Black jeans and a white t-shirt, something that looked normal, and not like he had struggled to decide between four outfits.

A pattern of light slid across Zayn’s ceiling and stopped. Someone was in the driveway. Zayn strode over to the window and cupped his hands against the glass so he could see.

Liam.

Zayn unlocked his window and lifted the bottom sash. He waited until Liam got out of his car and called out, “Li! Hey!”

Liam jumped and then looked up at Zayn’s window. “Your family here?”

“They’re all out to dinner.” Zayn shrugged. “Mom said I was too independent because of ‘those crazy college ideas’ and said I needed to be alone for the night to get over myself and ‘quit being an ass.’ ”

Liam laughed and mumbled something about loving Zayn’s mom. He stood in the driveway, hands on his hips, bathed in the light from the garage. “Zayn…”

Zayn’s heart thumped hard and fast in his chest. “Door’s unlocked, c’mon up.” He turned away from the window and rubbed his hands against his thighs. Should he stand there, sit on the bed, open the door—

Liam pounded up the stairs and burst into the room. “Are you mad at me?”

“Why did you text me?” Zayn shook his head and tears sprang to his eyes. “Were you joking?”

“Oh shit, no, not joking.” Liam held his hands up in front of himself. “Promise.”

Liam stepped into the room, glanced at Zayn, and then nodded toward the door. Zayn shook his head, _yes, yes_ , and Liam closed the door. Zayn heard the button lock click. Liam took off his black leather coat and hung it from the doorknob.

Zayn laughed, a loose, nervous laugh. “But you _texted_ that.”

“I couldn’t… wait any more.” Liam sat on the corner of the bed, resting his elbows on his knees and lacing his fingers together. The sleeves of his thin sweater were pushed up to just above his elbows and Zayn could see the feather tattoo on the inside of his arm. “I wanted to tell you face-to-face but I chickened out before…”

“Before?” Zayn sat on the bed next to Liam.

Liam looked down at his hands. “Thanksgiving, remember when we went on that drive by the river?”

“That day it snowed?”

“I wanted to tell you then. But I was… I _am…_ so scared.”

“It’s nearly Christmas. That was like, a month ago, almost.” Zayn shook his head. “You’ve been trying to tell me for a month?”

“Yeah.”

“You’ve known for a month?”

“The summer.”

“The summer.” They’d both been home from their respective colleges. They’d both gotten internships, and they’d spent a ton of time together. It was like being back in high school, but with booze and more money. Zayn couldn’t remember anything particularly different about the summer. Had he gotten drunk and hit on Liam or something? “What happened this summer?”

“When you had to leave early—”

“Because of Orientation Committee—”

“Right. I—I couldn’t stand it. I moped around for that whole week, and I thought it was just end-of-summer blues, but then… I got back to school and senior year, it should be great, you know…”

“Yeah…”

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you. And I realized… it’s cause I—” Liam stopped.

Zayn looked at the curve of Liam’s jaw. “You love me.”

Liam nodded, glanced at Zayn, then looked away. “I love you.”

“So you’ve known since September?”

Liam nodded and laughed softly. “At least.”

“Like love, love me?”

“Yes, I love, love you.” Liam laughed again and swiped his hand across his eyes. When he spoke, he voice was quiet and and thin sounding. “Are you mad at me?”

Zayn shook his head and touched the bunched hem of Liam’s sleeve. He rested his fingertips on the feather tattoo and squeezed Liam’s forearm. “I’m glad you told me, Li.”

Liam looked up, his eyes wide. “You are?”

“Yeah,” Zayn leaned forward just a bit and shook his head, then put on his best scolding voice, “even if you fucking _texted_ me.”

Liam leaned forward too. He dropped his voice to a whisper. “You could’ve texted me back, you know.”

Zayn nodded and closed his eyes. He felt the heat of Liam’s breath on his cheek and then Liam’s mouth was pressed against his. Or maybe his mouth was pressed against Liam’s. Zayn wasn’t sure, but he didn’t think it really mattered.

Liam pulled away and turned so his body was fully facing Zayn. “Is this… Was that… Are you OK?”

Zayn shifted his body too, and lifted a hand to Liam’s cheek. He wiped the wetness away with his thumb. “You’re crying.”

“I’ve been so scared.” Liam drew in a long breath, held it, and exhaled. “So _fucking_ scared.”

They kissed again, and when Liam’s mouth opened, Zayn tasted mint on his tongue. Not cigarettes, mint. Zayn smiled and said, “You brushed your teeth.” He crushed his lips against Liam’s again.

Liam pulled back, raised an eyebrow, and kissed Zayn—a quick peck. “So did you.”

Zayn blushed and buried his head in Liam’s neck. He smelled like Dove soap and leather, and he was warm. Zayn closed his eyes and kissed Liam’s throat. “I did,” he murmured, sticking the tip of his tongue out to see if he could taste any soap or leather or sweat on Liam’s skin.

Liam’s hands smoothed over the back of Zayn’s head. Liam groaned. “Fuck. Oh fuck.”

His voice was smooth as glass. Tears sprang to Zayn’s eyes. He sat up and pinched the corners of his eyes. “Shit, Li, now I’m crying.”

“Please.” Liam grabbed Zayn’s wrists and turned his palms outward. He kissed the soft flesh of Zayn’s hands. “Don’t cry.”

“I’m just…” Overwhelmed. Surprised. Amazed. In love with you too. Love, love, love— “Hold on.”

Liam pressed Zayn’s hand against his cheek and looked at Zayn. “Mm?”

“You said ‘at least.’ You’ve known since ‘at least’ September. What do you mean ‘at least?’”

Liam grinned and turned his head toward Zayn’s hand, kissing the side of it.

“O Zayneo, Zayneo…”

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of The Ziam Club's Song Lyrics Challenge, for the prompt "Come to My Window." To read more of the amazing fics by the other writers participating in this challenge, [click here](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/The_Ziam_Club_Song_Lyric_Challenge/works). 
> 
> Thanks for reading. Come say hi to me out on Tumblr, where you can find a [fic post](https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard/blog/gettingaphdinmomo/181334326951).


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